


all oak and iron bound

by numinousnumbat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Mild Hurt/Comfort, graphic descriptions of pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numinousnumbat/pseuds/numinousnumbat
Summary: Some of those born with magic are repelled by iron. Merlin wished he knew how much iron there was in Camelot before he started his new life there.





	all oak and iron bound

He’d heard about Camelot his entire life, of course. How many people there were, how tall the walls were, how distinguished the knights looked in their red cloaks.

No one, not once, had thought to mention how much metal there was, everywhere. Merlin could feel it from the moment he entered the walls.

There was metal in Ealdor, of course. One of his mother’s prized possessions was a large knife to cut meat and veg, which was cleaned and wrapped in several layers of cloth and put back on the top shelf of the cupboard each time it was used. The better-off families in Ealdor used metal cutlery, the very thought of it made Merlin shudder in horror. The farm horses had horseshoes and every family had a pot to go over the fire.

But in Camelot, _everything_ seemed to be made of metal, and it made Merlin want to head right back to Ealdor because maybe coming to find this Gaius was a terrible idea. But Gaius was kind, and accepting of Merlin’s magic, which was a good thing since if he hadn’t found out about Merlin’s magic the moment they met, he might have been pretty suspicious by the next day.

“Cut these herbs as fine as you can, and I’ll show you how to steep them in alcohol to store them for the winter,” Gaius said. Merlin’s heart sank as he looked at the knife Gaius had gestured to. His mum had circled the handle of their knife with leather and Merlin rarely had to use it, but this one was bare. Maybe he could manage for a bit, it wasn’t like the metal would be encircling his body.

Merlin picked up the knife and it burned too hot he dropped it instantly. He picked up a rag on the counter and wrapped it around the handle, but it was still too much and after only a few cuts, he set the knife down, and looked to Gaius, trying to think how he could explain.

“I should have thought,” Gaius said, looking apologetic. “We’ll figure something out, but for now, how about grinding these spices with the mortar and pestle.” Merlin walked to the other side of the table and gratefully started working with the stone tools.

 

♂♂♂

 

The next morning, Gaius woke Merlin at the crack of dawn and they walked through castle, through the fields, and deep into the forest. When they came to a small clearing, he showed Merlin how to find and gather chestnut bolete mushrooms.

They worked all day, stopping for a break at noon. After a while, Gaius said he was too old to be bending so much, so he pointed out the mushrooms and had Merlin lean over to grab them. Around dinner time, Merlin shouldered the bigger two bags, leaving the smallest one to Gaius. They left the clearing and walked back to the castle at dusk was falling.

Gaius bid Merlin a good night and said they would take care of the mushrooms in the morning. When morning came, and after breakfast, they took their sacks of mushrooms to the kitchens. The head cook said, “You got ‘em then?” and Gaius nodded and a couple of the kitchen hands took the bags and spread the mushrooms out on the big table, and got to work, using small brushes to brush the dirt off the mushrooms one by one. "We'll dry them and have them on hand for pies and stews over the winter," she explained. 

She handed Gaius something covered in a couple layers of cloth. He nodded and then he and Merlin set out towards … the stables?

“What are we doing?” he asked, trying his best to keep up with Gaius’s surprisingly fast gait.

“You’ll see,” Gaius said.

They entered the stables and Gaius asked one of the stable boys to fetch his master, and the boy ran off. A few minutes later, the stable master - Gaius called him Tom - strode in.

“So you have it?” Tom asked.

Gaius handed him the package from the kitchen. “One cherry tart.”

Tom lifted the edge of the cloth and peeked in at the tart with a smile. “It’s my wife’s birthday, and this is her favorite.” He took one last look at the tart before tucking the cloth back around it.

Tom pointed his head towards the back and the three of them walked that way, and he unlocked a door and they entered. It was a storage room, full of saddles and reins and horseshoes. Merlin could feel the metal of the stirrups and the bits and the hitches and horseshoes he didn’t like it. Tom bent over and pulled out a basket of riding gear and selected a pair of brown leather gloves and held them out to Gaius.

“For the boy,” Gaius said and Tom held them out to Merlin.

“Try them on,” Tom said. “Let’s make sure they’re the the right size.” Merlin slid the gloves on and they were surprisingly soft and supple. He made a fist a few times and the leather moved with his fingers easily, like a second set of skin.

They were the finest thing he’d ever touched.

“They fit perfect,” Merlin said looking at his hands.

“Good! Pleasure doing business with you, Gaius,” Tom said as he shook Gaius’s hand. “And you,” he said turning to Merlin, “those were made for Prince Arthur himself, you won’t find a better pair. Oil them at least monthly and they’ll last you.”

“I will, thank you,” Merlin said, and he followed Gaius back through the stables, the courtyard, and back into the castle.

“Let’s see if you can do your work now,” Gaius said, eyes twinkling.

Merlin didn’t know what else to say but “Thank you.” He was overwhelmed in gratitude for this man he had just met. “I don’t know how I will repay you.”

“You saw what it costs, and you saw you helped with it,” Gaius said. “Helping me here will be how you pay me back for the rest.”

Merlin smiled as he slipped his new gloves on and picked up the knife, the handle already wrapped in thick rope.

Gaius looked pleased. “Now you’re a proper assistant.”

They worked the rest of the day through, Gaius already beginning Merlin's training, even quizzing him on the medicinal properties of herbs over dinner. 

Merlin was so tired from his day and using the knife, not even a strange voice calling his name could keep him from falling asleep that night.

 

♂♂♂

 

The next day, Merlin chopped and sliced and diced. Gaius seemed happy for the help, too, and Merlin knew he had made the right choice in coming to Camelot.

He was outside running errands for Gaius when he had his first glimpse at the famous Knights of Camelot while they were training. As a boy, he heard tales of the Knights, how brave they were, how skilled they were.

Merlin watched for a few minutes and all he saw was a bunch of bullies, and the blond guy, the ringleader, was biggest bully of them all. Merlin stood up for one of his victims and of course, that bully was Arthur Pendragon, son of the king, and that’s how Merlin ended up in the stocks. It wasn’t so bad, and as a kid from Ealdor he wanted to tell these people that it would be far better to make a soup from their vegetables than let them go bad.

Gaius rescued him a few hours later.

“Next time, it will be the dungeon,” he warned. “Iron bars.”

Merlin shuddered. But he wasn’t going to let some royal prat pick on someone just because he could.

That night, after washing several times, he heard the voice again, and he was sure it was in his head, but he was also sure that it was coming from someone - something - close. He slipped out of his room and went to investigate.

Down through a service tunnel, down some stairs, and into a cave. He held up the torch and called out “Where are you?” and he heard the sound of something moving, something very large, and there in front of him was a dragon.

“I’m here,” the dragon said, landing on an outcropping.

Merlin held his torch out trying to get a better view. What did one say to a dragon?

“How small you are,” the dragon said, “for such a great destiny.”

“Why, what do you mean? What destiny?”

“The young Pendragon,” the dragon said.

“No, Arthur is a prat.”

They spoke a while longer, but Merlin found out nothing much, except that prat was supposed to be the one to unite Albion, and Merlin was going to help him. That was never going to happen. The dragon finished with the conversation and took off in an explosion of wings and claws and Merlin could see the heavy iron band around his leg and Merlin felt for a moment the burn in his own leg.

 

♂♂♂

 

And then as luck would have it, Merlin saved Arthur from getting murdered and was rewarded with the worst reward anyone could have ever thought of: Arthur’s manservant. Ugh.

He asked Gaius if he had to, and Gaius told him it was an honor. An honor!

“But Arthur’s not so much work,” Gaius said, “and I have plenty for you to do here.” That did cheer Merlin actually.

The next morning, he went to Arthur’s chambers with his breakfast, so many sausages just for one person.

He entered and placed the tray on the table. Arthur was awake and dressed already, reading at his table.

“Merlin,” he said with a smile, the sort of smile that said _I’m going to tell you something awful and enjoy it_. “I expect you to bring me breakfast in the morning, make sure it’s hot, and on time, not late like you are today. Tend to the fire, make sure the wood is dry, I hate smoke in my room. Make sure I have fresh water in the basin, fresh water means drawing from the well everyday, not once a week. My bed is to be made every morning, the linens aired. The floors scrubbed. My clothes are always to be clean and neat, I’m a prince.”

Arthur paused for a second; Merlin hoped he couldn’t read the daggers he was shooting from his eyes into Arthur’s stupid face. “Was that too much? Are you going to run back to whatever fishing village you came from?”

Merlin shrugged. “None of what you listed will be a problem.”

Arthur glared at him. “Oh, I forget,” he said standing from his chair and marching to the other side of his changing screen. Merlin heard clanging and his heart sank. Arthur strode back, mail and armor plates piled in his arms. “You’re also in charge of my armor.” He smiled at Merlin and shoved it all at his chest. Merlin’s gloves were in Gaius’s workshop, and he tried to catch what he could with the parts of his arms that were covered, but it was a losing battle and as the iron came in contact with his skin, he bit his bottom lip to keep from screaming, but he couldn’t control the reaction his body had and his arms flung it all down at the floor, anything to stop the pain.

Arthur laughed. “Too heavy for you?” he said smirking. “I expect it clean by tonight.” He turned and strode out the door. Merlin sank to the floor, trying to keep as much distance between himself and the metal as he could, and breathed through the lingering pain.

He wondered how soon he could get sacked.

 

♂♂♂

 

Merlin finally stopped his pity party, and decided to get on with it. He knew what would annoy Arthur the most: a servant that did everything so perfect he had nothing to complain about. Merlin needed to be that servant.

First things first, he ran back downstairs to Gaius’s workshop and grabbed his gloves off the workbench where he had left them. He borrowed a large basket from the laundry and went back to Arthur’s chambers where the armor was still laying in a heap on the floor.

Merlin lined the basket with a few thick blankets, and set about moving the armor into the basket. He was able to move most of it with a broom handle, and for the last few tricky pieces, he had his gloves on and used a towel for another layer of protection and was able to get it all into the basket. He immediately threw the blankets over the top, trying to make himself feel better with as much protection between himself and the iron as he could manage.

He picked up the basket and carefully walked it to Morgana’s room. He knocked on the door and Gwen answered, opening the door partially.

“Hi,” she said, looking up at him.

“Hi, I remember you said your dad is a blacksmith, how much do you know about armor?”

“I know just about everything there is to know,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“Ok, I will do anything, literally anything, if you clean this for me.”

“Oh!” she said, looking surprised. She opened the door wider and Merlin walked through and set the basket on the table and took a giant step back. She pulled back the blankets and saw the state of Arthur's armor.

“I was going to offer to do it for nothing, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish this and my work.” She trailed off and looked unhappy.

“Seriously, I’ll do anything,” Merlin said. “And it wouldn’t be right to dump all this work on you and not help you out in some way."

Gwen smiled. “Ok, you scrub floors, and I’ll work on armor?”

“Deal!” Merlin practically shouted. Before she could change her mind, he grabbed the bucket that she had sitting in the middle of the room and left to get water.

The afternoon passed swiftly, Merlin scrubbing the floors and Gwen cleaning and mending armor. They chatted, and Merlin enjoyed learning what it was like to grow up in Camelot.

She was stuck on a particularly rusted bit. “Any other knight would take better care of their armor,” she grumbled, “but he’s a prince and doesn’t appreciate how much this costs.” She realised she was talking out loud and stuttered. “I didn’t mean it!”

Merlin laughed. “Don’t worry about me, I think the prince is a spoiled bully.”

Gwen covered her mouth, half in shock, half in mirth. “Merlin!” she scolded. “You can’t say things like that.”

“I didn’t want this job.” He had finished his scrubbing and left to dump the dirty water. He came back to sit with Gwen at the table where she was finishing.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to show you how to do this?” she asked. “It’s really quite simple.”

Merlin held back a shudder. “Let’s just say I’d rather clean chamber pots than touch that.”

Gwen gave him a look, but didn’t comment. She gently placed the armor back into the basket, giving him instructions on how often things would need to be looked at. Merlin pulled the blanket across the top and picked the basket up.

“Gwen, thank you,” he said. “I owe you.”

“It’s nothing, and thank you for doing the floors for me.” They smiled at each other and Merlin turned to go.

“Merlin! Wait!” she called out as he was walking through the doorway. She came over with a gauntlet and as she was trying to slip it into the basket and Merlin was moving the blanket, she bumped Merlin’s bare wrist and he hissed as the burning pain radiated out.

Gwen jumped back, gauntlet in hand. “Merlin?”

“Sorry,” Merlin squeaked out. “Gaius says I’m allergic to, uh, certain metals.”

“Oh, that’s why you didn’t want to clean the armor, you should have just said!”

“I should have,” he agreed, knowing that this was the sort of secret he'd rather take to his grave. He waved off Gwen's offer to help take the armor back, and made his way back to Arthur’s chambers. He left the armor in the basket, the burning touch from the gauntlet still fresh in his mind.

Merlin was hoping to avoid the prat, but halfway through hauling firewood and changing water, Arthur burst into the room, armor on.

“You!” he said as Merlin hunched his shoulders forward. “Help me take this armor off and get me something nice to wear; I’m having dinner tonight with the Grancourts, the father and that daughter of his, the one that has a pet _spider_.”

“I’ll be sure to get your finest clothes to impress the young Lady,” Merlin said dryly.

Arthur looked annoyed. “Not _too_ nice, but I do need her father to think she enough of a chance that he doesn’t do anything crazy like send her off to get married to a Lord from Cenred’s kingdom.”

Merlin was pulling on his gloves, thankfully not forgotten this time. “Your most medium finest outfit.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and unbuckled his pauldron from under his arm and held his arm out so Merlin could take it. Merlin grabbed an oiled cloth to further protect his hands. He took a deep breath and reached out and pulled it off. He could feel the tell-tale tingle of iron, but he was ready for it and armed with two layers, he could handle it.

They took off Arthur’s outer pieces one-by-one, Merlin laying them on the table as he went, then his red tunic, until they were at his mail. Merlin stood on a chair and lifted it off by the shoulders - using as few fingers as possible - and as it cleared Arthur’s head, he dropped it onto the table, making a huge sound as it collided with the plate pieces already there.

Arthur turned and looked at him. “You are, by far, the strangest servant I’ve ever had.”

Merlin smiled. “You are, by far, the strangest prince I’ve ever served.”

Arthur pulled his under-shirt off and if Merlin was the type of person to appreciate the male form, well, that was a chest well worth admiring. Merlin handed him a clean linen under-shirt - soft, recently laundered and sun-dried - and then a new wool tunic of bright red. Clean trousers to replace his mud-stained ones, and then newly oiled boots and a belt.

“What do you think?” Arthur said, holding his arms out. “Not too good, I trust, don’t want Lady Spider to fall completely in love with me." 

Arthur looked very good, and Merlin hoped he wasn't blushing. “Any Lord or Lady with questionable hobbies would happily flirt with you tonight.”

Arthur laughed and then gave Merlin a look. “What would you know?” he asked turning and heading down to the dinner.

 

♂♂♂

 

Being around so much iron, Merlin learned that different iron affected him in different ways. New iron was worse than old iron. Iron pots and skillets were not so bad, something about their exposure to natural things, was Gaius’s guess. Iron that was sharpened was the worst, spears and knives and swords. 

He started to be able to sense where iron was around him, whether it was the hanging weight of a chandelier, or a knife concealed in someone’s boot.

 _Know thy enemy_ , he would think to himself.

He discovered that using his magic on iron itself was the most draining, so he focused on using his magic on things that weren't iron in the fights that Arthur inevitably got himself into. It was hard to redirect a sword swinging in to knock Arthur off his feet; it was easier to down tree limbs and hurl rocks at bandits and mercenaries. He saved using his magic directly at iron for only the most desperate of circumstances.

Like when they were outnumbered by at least three-to-one and the bandits they had been chasing had the uphill advantage. The bandits had taken down two knights before anyone had figured out what was happening, and in a frenzy Arthur had jumped off his horse and made a one-man charge straight into the middle of them. Merlin had to stop more swords than he could count as the bandits descended on him.

He’d managed to give Arthur the upper hand and in a few minutes, his knights had made it to him and the bandits were soundly defeated. Merlin had collapsed, every bit of his magic had been used.

He’d had made it home, barely. One of the knights had helped him off his horse, and gotten him to Gaius. Gaius had given him something to help him sleep and he woke up warm under a new blanket. One of Arthur’s, he realised, fingering it in the midday sun. Had Arthur come to see him?

He sat up, and was so dizzy he let himself fall back into the soft blanket.

“Merlin,” he heard Gaius call from far away, “Merlin, stay put, I’m coming,” and then Merlin felt a cool hand across his brow.

“Do you know what ails you?” Gaius asked in a low tone.

“Used too much magic,” Merlin said, eyes closed. “Too much iron in Camelot.”

“Do you think you can eat a few bites of broth?” Gaius asked and Merlin nodded. Gaius left for a few minutes and was back with a cup of broth in a clay cup and some bread on a wood plate. “Get some food in you, and I’ll bring you a pain tonic and we’ll see if we can get you rested up today.”

Merlin had the bread and broth and then the pain tonic and he found himself drifting to sleep and he didn’t feel good, but he did feel noticeably better.

He woke the next time at the feeling of his bed dipping at the side. He opened an eye and Arthur was sitting next to him.

“Hey,” Arthur said, looking concerned. “Gaius said you’re doing better.”

“I am, thank you.”

“There was extra jam and clotted cream, so I left it on your table.” Merlin glanced over and could see the Prince’s crockery, he’d brought Merlin his own jam and clotted cream. It was a surprisingly nice gesture.

“Thank you,” Merlin said.

“I, after my first battle, I-” Arthur paused, searching for the right words. “I didn’t handle it well _mentally_ , you know. It’s hard. It’s the life I chose, but it was different going into real battle than what I thought from the training field.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “It’s ok to not be ok after seeing something like that.”

Oh, Arthur thought Merlin was ill because of seeing a battle. That was, well, convenient as well as empathetic. 

“Thank you for understanding,” Merlin lied. Arthur put his hand on top of Merlin’s hand for a few moments and then withdrew it.

“I do trust that you will soon be better,” Arthur said strangely formal, standing, nodding, and walking out the door.

 

♂♂♂

 

Merlin was better, and was able to perform light chores the next day.

Things went on well enough for a while. Gaius continued to teach Merlin about herbs and other remedies, Arthur continued to be a prat about most things, and Gwen continued to be the best and found a few hours a week to clean and mend Arthur’s armor.

His life had settled into routine, and then Sophie happened.

“She’s so beautiful,” Arthur said. “I want to spend every minute of every day with her.”

Merlin was surprised Arthur threw himself at this woman when he had met so many other women, just as beautiful, and some even more accomplished. She did have that _damsel in distress_ thing that Arthur and his chivalrous soul couldn’t say no to, perhaps. After Arthur's bold declarations of love and devotion, Merlin should have been more surprised when Arthur told Merlin to cover for him while he skipped a patrol.

Arthur never skipped patrol.

As much of a prat Arthur was sometimes, he did consider his work as a knight to be his most important work. The knights treated him the same as any other knight and he received no special treatment from them. So it came down to Merlin to do the lying for Arthur.

Uther wasn’t an idiot and saw through Merlin in a second, which he was expecting. It was the next bit he had failed to think about.

“Guards!” Uther called out and half-dozen men came jogging in, and Merlin started to panic and when Uther turned and waved a few fingers saying, “Dungeon” he wouldn’t have seen Merlin go pale and start shaking his head.

“I’ll do the stocks,” Merlin tried to bargain, but Uther was already done with him.

It was six-against-one and Merlin should have gone meekly, but he couldn’t stop trying to get free, his body acting on instinct as he tried to run, both from the iron on the guards and the iron he knew awaited him in the dungeon. As a result, he was half-dragged, half-carried down the stairs to the dungeon.

He was begging and pleading, saying nonsense, trying to delay the inevitable.

“The young master won’t leave you here for long,” one guard offered, probably meaning to be kind.

Another guard pushed Merlin against the floor and the dirty hay and no, no no, reached for the wrist cuff and banged it down around his wrist and Merlin screamed, it was the most painful thing that had ever happened to him. And then it happened again and Merlin was throwing himself against the cuffs, trying to free himself from the pain.

He didn’t notice the guards leaving, but felt it as the iron door swung shut, blocking his exit, and he let out a moan. He tried to breathe through the pain, he tried to move his arms so the iron was touching his skin as little as possible, it didn’t help. He laid on his side and willed his magic to not strike out and expose him. He tried counting, he tried thinking about the antics he and Will had gotten up to, it didn’t help.

Gaius visited at some point, murmuring soothing words. He had the guard unshackle him one arm at a time and put a soothing ointment on his wrists and then wrap each wrist with layers of bandages, but as the guard shackled him again and the pain was just as severe. The bandages provided so little relief against the iron encircling him that it was like Gaius hadn’t done anything.

He felt Gaius’ hand on his forehead and the whispered words that he would send Arthur to get him as soon as Arthur was back.

Merlin laid in a ball, he didn’t care that he was moaning, he didn’t care that he was sobbing, it was all too much.

After some indeterminable amount of time, he heard Arthur, but it was too much to move his head. “I’ve come to fetch my servant,” he said loudly and Merlin told himself to breathe, he’d be free soon. The iron would be off, the pain would go away, he would survive.

“What did you do to him?” Arthur said. “He was fine when I left him this morning.” _Hurry, Arthur, hurry._

Merlin felt someone at his arms and the iron opened and that relief felt amazing and then it was off and then the other wrist and he could cry it felt so good. He reached out and felt Arthur’s boot and rested his cheek against it.

“Can you walk?” Arthur asked and Merlin tried to get to his hands and knees but it was too much and his arms gave out and he ended up with his face in the dirty hay.

“If any of our prisoners looks like this, I don’t care what terrible thing they’ve done, you send for the physician,” Arthur said somewhere near Merlin’s head. Arthur put his arm under Merlin’s and pulled him to standing.

“Can you take a step?” Arthur asked and Merlin tried but the world was fading to black and he knew he was going to fall but strong arms held him and he felt Arthur pick him up under his knees and he was carrying him and the only thing he felt is when he passed through the iron bars and the relief that came with being free of the iron and he sobbed against Arthur.

“It was only the dungeon for a few hours,” Arthur murmured. “You’re ok.”

Merlin was not ok, but he couldn’t tell Arthur that.

Merlin didn’t risk opening his eyes in case it made him nauseated and he threw up on Arthur, but he could smell when they entered Gaius’ workshop, the soothing scent of herbs and whatever stew he was making for dinner.

“Lay him in his bed, that’s a good lad,” Gaius said.

“What’s wrong with him?” Arthur's voice was strained.

“He’s allergic to iron,” Gaius replied.

 _No, no, no, don’t tell,_ Merlin thought.

“Allergic to iron! That’s preposterous,” Arthur said as Gaius unwrapped the bandages on Merlin’s wrist. “That looks like a burn from a fire,” Arthur said quietly.

“That is a good way to think of it,” Gaius replied.

“What does he need?”

“Rest and time.” Gaius was applying more ointment and Merlin could feel the tingling coolness.

“Keep me apprised of his situation,” Arthur said. “I am late to meet the Lady Sophia.” And Merlin felt the bed rise as Arthur stood and then it was Gaius murmuring softly to him and a sleep potion on his lips and he fell mercifully asleep.

 

♂♂♂

 

He woke up slowly, the pain in his wrists was more of a dull throbbing pain and he spent a few minutes getting to sitting in bed.

Gaius stopped by with more pain tonic and water, and after an hour or two, he helped Merlin to their table where he had made oatmeal.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out,” he said quietly. “You were there under Uther’s orders and no one can supersede that.”

“I know,” Merlin said, taking a tiny bite of oatmeal. “It was that royal prat’s fault.”

“He couldn’t have known what Uther would do, or that you would fare so poorly in the dungeons.”

Merlin sighed. Of course that was true, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

“And we’re going to need a supply of ointment with magical properties,” Gaius said. “I used what plants I know, and tried my best, but I think it’s time for you to learn to make some of the cures and palliatives we stock here.”

“Use … magic?”

Gaius nodded. “Magical cures are better for magical wounds.”

Merlin was surprised. He hadn't thought of magic being helpful like that. “I don’t know how,” he said.

“We’ll figure it out,” Gaius said. “Now finish your breakfast and get back to bed.”

 

♂♂♂

 

It was a good thing Merlin rested when Gaius told him to because a few days later he was following Arthur and Sophia and Sophia's father, Aulfric, through the woods to a lake, and Merlin was killing Sophia and Aulfric and saving Arthur from drowning. Not bad for a day’s work.

Merlin was there when Arthur woke from his ordeal at the lake, and the look on Arthur’s face when he told him that he hit the crown prince with a board was definitely going to be a top ten memory for life, that was for sure.

“You hit me?”

“Yep."

“I carried you out of the dungeon not three days ago,” Arthur said. “I guess your iron allergy isn’t so bad.”

Merlin rather wished Arthur would carry him to his bed again, he was exhausted and the last thing he wanted was to be having this conversation. “Gaius is a good physician.”

“I know you're not allergic to iron,” Arthur said, “since I know you clean my armor.”

“I don’t,” Merlin said, now wishing he’d brought this up before. “Gwen does it.”

“Gwen?” Arthur was incredulous.

“Her father’s a blacksmith, she’s probably the most competent person to maintain armor in the whole of Camelot.” Merlin was nothing if not loyal to his friends.

Arthur was scowling at Merlin. “My servants don’t foist off their own work onto others.”

“I’ve scrubbed Morgana’s floor and carried approximately the ocean to her room for her baths,” Merlin said, feeling only slightly guilty. "It's a fair trade." 

"See that it remains that way." 

Merlin wanted to protest that he would never take advantage of Gwen, but he was so tired and needed to lay down. "I will, sire." 

 

♂♂♂

 

Arthur was slowly ridding his chambers of iron. The iron candlesticks were replaced with stone, the iron bedposts were replaced with ornate carved pine. A cupboard was installed to keep a layer between the armor and the room, and the arms master started sending a squire up every few days to cart down excess armor to be kept in the armory.

It helped. Merlin felt like he could breathe in there, and when he threw the windows open to air out the room and he could smell the forests from beyond the walls, it didn’t feel like he was in a city surrounded by iron.

 

♂♂♂

 

Merlin was serving Arthur at a feast with some Lord and Lady, and the new serving girl for the Lady went left when Merlin went right, and they bumped into each other and the wine in the serving girl's hand ended up in the Lady's lap, and she jumped up with an "oh no!" Uther looked up from where he was speaking about alliances with the Lord and yelled for the guards to take Merlin to the dungeon. 

Merlin started shaking, unable to speak, not that he would have spoken up to blame the serving girl either. It was an _accident_. A handful of guards appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Merlin and started dragging him to the dungeon, the iron from their armor sapping Merlin's energy and burning wherever one of them touched him. 

"Wait!" Arthur's voice rang out and he jogged down the hallway. The guards paused. "Take him to muck out the stables." 

A reprieve of the greatest order. 

The head guard stepped forward and bowed respectfully. "The King ordered him to the dungeons." 

Arthur looked cross. "Sitting in the dungeons overnight isn't punishment for such a lazy servant. Take him to muck out the stables." 

The guards conferred, decided that as long as this servant was punished they didn't care, and hauled Merlin the opposite direction, towards the stables. The tears of relief on Merlin's cheeks froze as they walked through the courtyard to the stables. 

Inside the stables, it was still cold, but at least there wasn't wind. The night stable master had shrugged when the guards left Merlin, and told him to get on with it. Merlin had done that, wanting to prove to Arthur that he was thankful for what he'd done. 

The castle was dark when Merlin made his way back inside. He debated going straight to his bed, but wanted to thank Arthur if he was still awake. He tripped on the stairs a few times as his feet were so cold they were numb. He pushed Arthur's door open with his shoulder, and Arthur was sitting in his bed, a few scrolls scattered around him. His room was painfully warm and there was a roaring fire. 

"Finally," he said, smiling. "I saved you my bathwater because I know you stink like horse shit." 

A bath would be amazing. "Thank you, sire," Merlin said. For the bath and saving him from the dungeons and making his room a place that Merlin could re-engerise when he felt drained. 

"You just spent hours in the stables because of a serving girl's mistake on her first night," Arthur sighed. "No need to thank me. Come on, get it the tub." 

Merlin walked over to the wood tub, and the water was steaming and crystal clear. Arthur hadn't bathed, and had sent for water for him. Merlin tried to undo his belt but his fingers were still frozen through and he couldn't get his hands to work. 

Arthur saw him struggling, and got out of bed. "What's wrong?" he ordered. 

"Just cold." 

Arthur brought over the candles and examined Arthur's fingers in the light. "It doesn't look like frostbite, but you need to get warm." 

He undid Merlin's belt and pulled his tunic and under-shirt over his head, then kneeled down to untie his boots. Merlin used Arthur's shoulder to balance so Arthur could pull each boot off. Last were his trousers and undergarments. Merlin by this point was shaking as his body tried to warm itself. Arthur picked up Merlin and gently helped him ease into the water. 

"Too hot," Merlin mumbled as his teeth chattered. 

"It's not, it feels that way because you're cold," Arthur said, pulling up a chair. "I'm going to do my best to make sure you don't drown," he said as Merlin shook and shook. Gradually his hands and feet warmed and he was able to wash himself, hopefully washing out the scent of the stables. When Merlin was warm and struggling to stay awake, Arthur helped him stand and carefully step out of the tub. Merlin dried himself, and Arthur put an under-tunic and tunic on Merlin, before having him step into thick wool socks. 

He walked Merlin back to his room, holding his arm as he tiredly kept tripping over his own feet. He left Merlin in bed and told him to come to his chambers whenever he woke. Merlin was asleep before Arthur had left. 

 

♂♂♂

 

Then there was a knight that was impossible to kill because he was already dead.

Merlin figured out he was going to need a special sword and the dragon. Gwen gave him the sword, made by her father, and then Merlin brought it down to the dragon.

The dragon howled in laughter. “Do you see yet that your destiny is together? You come here with that blade and you can’t even touch it, let alone wield it.”

Merlin scowled. He was wearing his gloves and Gwen had wrapped the handle with leather and so he took a deep breath to brace for the burn and held it up for the dragon to burnish it with his fiery breath. Imagine being more scared of touching iron than of a dragon's breathing fire, that was his life.

It was only with a small amount of joy in his heart when he threw the thing in a lake after it had been used to defeat the undead knight.

 

♂♂♂

 

A group of bandits had been operating on the roads, targeting families as they traveled on their holidays. Uther had sent out teams of knights to find the bandits, but they had resisted capture. They robbed again, and Uther deemed this Arthur’s top priority, and so Arthur, a dozen of his knights and squires, and Merlin set out to find the bandits and bring them to justice.

They traveled a day south, where the bandits had last been spotted, and the bandits must have been desperate after weeks of being searched for, because they attacked.

The bandits never had a chance, not against Camelot’s finest. The knights drew swords and Merlin crouched behind a rock where he could watch Arthur. He brought down a tree branch on a couple of the bandits, and the rest were taken care of by the pointy end of swords.

Underneath the branch, the older of the two was panicking. “Just kill me now,” he said. “Uther’s going to kill us anyway.”

“Shut up!” the second one said harshly.

Arthur strode over and looked down at them. “Why do you think the King is going to kill you?”

“He’s a sorcerer! He had me under a spell! I’m innocent!” the older one shouted.

Arthur looked from one to the other. “I’m not here to sort out your story, save it for the King.” He motioned at his knights and a few of them came up with iron bands to bind the bandits' wrists together, and then they’d be loaded onto a cart for the trip back to the Camelot.

The knights manhandled the mouthy one first, getting him cuffed, and his legs tied together before loading him into the cart. Next was the younger one, the one that had been named a sorcerer.

He was being held down by two knights, and as the knight with the iron cuffs came forward, he started panicking and yelling.

The knight clicked the band closed, and the man screamed.

Merlin knew what that meant. “Arthur, don’t do it,” Merlin said, stepping forward from where he had been staying out of the way.

“This is what we do to prisoners,” Arthur said. “He was robbing women and _children_.”

Merlin sank to his knees. “Please, not like this.”

Arthur hesitated. Merlin looked up at him blinking back tears. Arthur made a show of sighing. “Fine,” he said after a moment. “Tie this one with rope. Make sure it’s secure.” He looked back down at Merlin. “You owe me,” he said.

“Anything,” Merlin responded. Anything at all.

 

♂♂♂

 

They headed back to Camelot in good spirits; the knights were all uninjured, and they had two prisoners to answer for months of crimes. It had been a quick and fruitful trip.

They stopped for the night just before the sun was setting. Someone had caught a few rabbits earlier, so the stew would be good. The squires set up the camp, the knights lounged, there was ale and wine and someone had a flute and it had all of the makings of a pleasant evening.

Merlin thought he'd search around and see if he could find any herbs to add to the dinner tonight, maybe thyme or chives. He wandered down the forest line, keeping his eyes peeled towards the ground. He heard footsteps and it was Arthur running after him, making good time since he was out of his armor.

"There are bandits and thieves and you left the protection of the best fighters of Camelot to go on a hike?" 

It was sweet of Arthur to worry. "I'm still in eyesight!" he protested, but when he looked up, he saw that he had wandered farther than he thought. "I'm still in shouting distance," he amended. Arthur gave him a scorching glance. "Sorry," he said. "Looking for herbs for dinner." 

"I'll help," Arthur said, and the two of them walked down the path, Arthur occasionally asking if something he saw was the right thing, until Arthur found chives. Merlin crouched low and grabbed a few, snapping them in half and taking a sniff. "These'll do," he said, and Arthur also sniffed and nodded. 

They were on their knees gathering the chives when Arthur spoke again. “That man today,” Arthur started and Merlin felt panic to the pit of his stomach, he knew which man.

“The old one with the frog eyes or the young one with the toad mouth,” Merlin bluffed.

“The one who seemed to have the same iron _allergy_ as you,” Arthur said.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“You said you owed me.”

“I did.”

“You owe me the truth.”

“What truth is that?” Merlin’s heart was pounding.

“Are you a sorcerer?”

Would Arthur kill him here in the woods? Would he drag Merlin back to Camelot in iron bands? “Are you going to kill me?”

Arthur huffed out a laugh. “Would I take off my armor - the one thing I know protects me from you - if I was planning on killing you?”

“... no?”

“Idiot,” Arthur said. “So answer the question.”

“Yes,” Merlin whispered.

“The iron thing?”

“Less an allergy and more a repulsion to my innermost being.”

"Ah," Arthur said, and after a few minutes of tense silence, they walked back to the camp together. 

Arthur wasn't treating Merlin any differently, and it was making Merlin crazy. Arthur was served first, and then Merlin brought his bowl over and sat at Arthur's feet, ready to fetch whatever he needed.

He had more than a few sips of wine and when Arthur finished his rounds, making sure everyone was ok, thanking them for doing their duty, he called for Merlin and they went into their tent together.

The men liked to tell tales and drink more than what was considered a respectable amount, and when Arthur left, they could. Arthur didn’t begrudge them. There would always be at least two knights on watch duty, as well, taking shifts through the night.

There were two low cots for Merlin and Arthur, and Merlin helped Arthur out of his battle-worn dirty shirt and into a clean one for sleeping. Arthur got into his cot with a yawn and Merlin changed into his own night clothes, leaving the candle lit in case Arthur was needed quickly in the night, and slid into his own cot, rubbing his legs together as he waited for his body heat to warm his bed.

Arthur turned to Merlin and Merlin could sort of make out the shape of his shoulder.

 “So,” Arthur said, tossing a blanket around his shoulders, “I know your biggest secret, don’t you want to know mine?”

Merlin thought perhaps he knew all of the prince’s secrets, he’d held him weeping after one of his knights had died in battle, he’d heard him speak wistfully of a mother he never knew, and he cleaned his soiled clothing and bedding after he had contracted food poisoning from aged beef gifted from a visiting lord. “Do you think I don’t know everything about you?”

Arthur leaned in close and kissed Merlin on the lips, and then pulled back. “Did you know that?” he asked, flushed even in the dim light.

Merlin couldn't help but smile. He hadn’t know that. "Maybe."

“Maybe I need to show you again,” Arthur said, tilting his head. “You are sometimes quite dense.”

Merlin got up and straddled Arthur in his bed and put his hands around Arthur’s shoulders and leaned his head down and kissed him.

“You're getting a handle on this, but more practice might be called for," Arthur said as they broke apart, and kissed Merlin again.

 

♂♂♂

 

They were on a quest, Arthur kept saying. _Quest_ seemed to be a lot of wandering around the countryside in the constant drizzle. Maybe the next quest could happen in front of a fireplace with warm-from-the-oven pastry.

“We’re going to find the Goblet of Guelder!” had been how this all had started a few weeks ago. The map they found on the back of the tapestry had lead them to a cave, and if X marked the spot, they were going to find the Goblet in there, somehow.

A few knights had ventured in with torches, looking behind rocks and under piles of leaves, looking for any markings that someone might have left. No one found anything, and the tapestry and scrolls hadn’t yielded any more clues.

The squires had set up camp and Merlin was prepared to be bored for a few days. When he went into the tent, a squire was helping Arthur take his armor off, and Merlin flopped down on his cot.

“Are you planning something, my Lord?” Merlin asked, hoping the answer would be sex because a few days out in the wilderness with nothing more to do than, well, Arthur, was definitely something Merlin could get excited about. Er, so to speak.

“I am,” Arthur said. He looked over and saw Merlin lounging. He raised an eyebrow and Merlin only didn’t touch himself through his clothes because the squire was still there. “We’re going in the cave.”

“We?”

Arthur was as smug as the cat that ate the canary. “You have a talent, shall we say, for finding iron, and I do believe our Goblet is iron. I’ll take off all my armor, and we’ll go exploring.”

“You have knights!” Merlin protested.

“This will be fun,” Arthur said and nothing Arthur said was going to be fun ever was.

They were in the cave shortly after, four knights guarding the entrance since their prince was so boneheaded to go in there without protection, not even a sword.

“I have this branch and Merlin has …” - he looked around and triumphantly picked up a medium-sized rock - “Merlin has this rock,” he finished.

Sir Galahad called for more knights.

Arthur and Merlin entered together, twin torches lighting the cave. “Do you feel it?” Arthur asked as soon as they were inside.

Merlin shot him a withering glance. “Give me at least five seconds,” he said, and started walking. He paced the outer chamber and nothing. They went right, and nothing. They retraced their steps and went left, and there between two large rocks was _something_. 

Arthur called in a few knights with shovels and after some digging, a couple of feet down, they hit a wood box. They got the box out and inside was a mostly intact, very old goblet. 

Arthur gave a shout that echoed through the cave and he leaned over and kissed Merlin and Merlin kissed him back.

Maybe this iron repulsion thing wasn't all bad after all.  

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea in the middle of nanowrimo and wrote this instead of working on my novel. I'm only two seasons into this show and I can't wait to be introduced to some knights besides Lancelot. 
> 
> The title is an idiom from a different idiom “sound as a barrel” and both mean “in good health.” ♂ is the symbol for male, Mars, and iron from alchemy times.
> 
> I am on [tumblr](https://numinousnumbat.tumblr.com/).


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